Prompts Collection
by StarRise
Summary: These are entries from a personal prompt challenge. I'm posting some of them that turn out well and can stand alone. Collection of cannon and original characters. Ratings will vary but nothing here will be over T.


_This is an entry in series of a personal prompt challenge. I just happened to really like this how this one came out for the most part and decided to put up and see what kind of response I got. I was having a little trouble with the prompt on this one and was working on another story when my iPod hit a song on random._

_Tattoos and Scars, recoded by Montgomrey Gentrey. It finally gave me some inspiration, and this is where I ended up._

_For the Disclaimer, I do not own Transformers._

_The unnamed femme, the unnamed young mech, and Darklight are all mine though._

_Prompt # 79_

_Prompt: Tattoo_

The pale femme in the corner of the bar attracted many looks, and second looks, from those unaccustomed to seeing her there. She was eye-catching, pale armor and graceful down swept wings reflecting the lights of the bar and causing her to positively glow. Many of the newcomers would approach her; a few were even so bold as to proposition her.

Whenever a new one came up the regulars would just shake their heads and watch with interest to see how far it would go this time. She was always polite, and most of the mechs would figure out after a few minutes that she had no interest in them, for whatever reason, and move on. The few that didn't would either find themselves facing the music from her, or from her bondmates when they arrived.

They knew her name, and some of them even knew that at one point in time she had been involved in the civil war. But she never said what side, and she never talked about it. Neither did her mates, when they came in. At first the other patrons had not believed that the mechs that came in to join her every time were bonded to her. Three way bonds were rare, and bonds between grounders and arielbots were almost as rare.

It was not until the first time that a mech really refused to take no for an answer that they found out, and got a little more insight to the three of them. The femme had already forcefully removed the mechs hands from her once, but the mech had to much high grade in his system to process that coming back around was not a good idea. He made his second attempt as the gold and red mechs were walking in the door.

The pair did not even pause as they crossed the room, physically picked up the mech, and marched him out the door again. The red one paused and called to the mech lying in the street, "Learn to keep your hands off another mechs mate. You'll last longer."

The entire episode caused some raised optic ridges among the patrons of the bar. Darklight was not very tolerant of what he tended to term "foolishness" in his establishment and took offense when mech took matters into their own hands.

Yet his only response to the violence offered by these two to another patron was to set their drinks on the bar in front of them when they sat down. Questioned about that later, he had merely shrugged. "I do not get involved with mechs defending their bonded. That is their right. And besides, those two have been fighting long enough they could take out half the bar without scratching a table."

The last comment had promptly put the fear of the mech twins into the rest of the bar patrons, and they had made it a point to never offer offense to them or their mate, whom they had come to suspect was a capable warrior in her own right. Now it was almost entertainment to see newcomers bother the femme, and when the occasional mech was tossed into the street on his head it was the talk around the bar for at least the next week.

All of this had led to questions and a great deal of speculation on who and what the three had been in the past. While some of those involved in the war had been honored as heroes, statues to their memories raised for them on the Walk of Heroes, a great many of those involved in the war, especially those who had been on the side of the Decepticons, had chosen to essentially forget their past.

Their involvement in the war had been locked away, somewhere deep in the historical archives, far from the reaches and optics of the common citizen. This gave them all a fresh start, a chance to live a normal life as they should have, without fighting and pain. It had quickly become established that Darklight knew more about the three then he was willing to tell, and the usuals had learned long ago that it was no use pressing the old mech for information once he had closed his mouth on a subject. There was no leverage or intimidation that would get anything more then a warning wave of the stun baton he kept the behind the bar out of him.

On this night the steady thrum of rain was an intersting counterpoint to the music inside the bar. The weather had driven many mechs inside, seeking shelter and company. The unusual number of new mechs were those waiting for the weather to clear so they could get home. So it was no surprise to anyone when the door opened and another new face walked in.

This newcomer did earn some second looks as he made his way across the room and to the bar, stopping just a few inches from the femme and ordering a very strong drink. He ignored the looks until he noticed the blank face on the femme next to him. His expression morphed into one of tough aggression.

"Don't look so surprised, fem. I'm older then I look." He grabbed the drink and downed half of it without pause. Practically slamming it back down the on the bar he turned to face her head on. "If I felt like talking, I could probably tell you a thing or two."

He took another drink, calming a little. "And since you didn't ask, I might as well anyway." He turned his arms so that they were clearer in the dim light of the bar. Spiraling down his arms was etching, the equivalent of tattoos burned into the plating in his arms. He pointed to one. "Got this one in Polyhex. Dump in some ally behind a bar."

He looked down his arm and switched to the other arm, pointing to another one. "Got this one when I was so overcharged that I didn't know which way was up somewhere in Vos. Still not sure what is supposed to say, think it's pre war Vosian." He shrugged. "And I don't care what they say, there's nothing getting better even if the war is over. No chance for someone like me."

The femme was silent, listening the entire time he spoke. When he was done she waved to Darklight. The bartender nodded and brought over two more drinks, one of what the young mech had been drinking and one regular energon. He placed the drink in front of the mech and the regular grade by the femme.

"Don't worry about it, this one is on me." The femme said softly as the mech started to protest, knowing he did not have the credits to afford another drink. She took a drink of her own energon, and after a moment of contemplation she set the cube down and held out an arm in his direction. One had to look, but underneath the paint job, faintly visible in the dim light, were the jagged criss-crossed lines of scars.

"Now granted, I don't have any tattoos with stories to tell, but I do have these." Her optics dimmed a bit as she looked at them. "This one was from the first battle I ever fought in the civil war. Shrapnel from the bomb that killed my best friend." She pointed to another one much higher on her shoulder. "This one was from the last battle I was in, the final one of the war that was not faction against faction, but every bot against a threat meant to destroy all of us."

The mech was silent, his optics traveling over all of the scars now visible when one cared to look for them, stopping at some nasty ones on her wrists. The femme did not offer the story behind those as she slowly pulled her arms back and spoke again. "You have obviously seen a lot for the time you have been around, but you still have a lot to learn. Tattoos and scars may both tell stories, but they are not the same. And even with the stories they tell, you can learn who a person is if you look and listen carefully. Keep your optics and your audios open, use your processor, but most importantly, listen with your spark. You'll get there."

With that she polished off her energon and stood to join the two mechs that had appeared on either side. She didn't look back as she walked out the door, escorted by the two.

The young mech watched her go thoughtfully, and accepted the cube of regular energon that was placed in front of him without comment. There really wasn't anything to say, and a lot to think about.

_Just a quick note- Most of these prompts are being written in what I refer to as my head cannon. This is roughly a G1 alternative universe that exists in my head. If I get a positive response I might post some of the other prompts I've completed that could stand alone._


End file.
